


Burden

by Arlothia



Series: FebuWhump 2021 [26]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: (I do not know why it did 'thrashing' in all caps....), Angst, Carried, Delirium, Febuwhump, Fever, Found, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Manhandling, Mumbling, Rescued, THRASHING, Whump, concerned friend, h/c, herbal medicine, sweating, washed up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlothia/pseuds/Arlothia
Summary: Kenshin was asleep for three days after washing up on shore.
Series: FebuWhump 2021 [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139549
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	Burden

**Author's Note:**

> FebuWhump Day 26 - Recovery  
> Love me some whumped Kenshin and caretaker Hiko!

Hiko Seijuro stood up straight, easing his stiff back after he set down his burden on the floor. He huffed a laugh.  _ His burden _ . He had never imagined this particular burden would find itself under his roof again.

Fourteen years was a long time, but he’d still recognized that mess of red hair when he’d seen a body washed to shore that morning. To say he’d been surprised was an understatement, but not as surprised as when he saw the scar on his cheek. So. It was true, then. 

Grabbing the sword from his former baka deshi’s limp fingers, Hiko resolved to end the matter once and for all. Kenshin had abused his teachings, broken the most important rule of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu, and aligned himself with a political side. But when he unsheathed the blade, Hiko paused. It was backwards. A Sakabato sword. This was not the weapon of a killer.

Curiosity - and not a little hope - entered Hiko’s mind. The Bakumatsu had ended over a decade ago, and so had ended the tales of the Hitokiri Battousai. If he had continued using his skills for any side, word would have spread. But there had been nothing. What had happened to his baka deshi? What had led him to be lying here in the sand, the markings of a fight evident on his body, with a sword that didn’t kill? The answers would come once the boy woke up.  _ If _ he woke up.

Kenshin was flush with fever, his breathing thready and his pulse sluggish. Hiko had no idea how long he had been adrift in the water or what sort of battle he had fought in, but his body was suffering, fighting to survive.

Seeing him lying there like that, Hiko’s mind traveled to a time long ago when this young man had been a boy, soon after he had taken him in. He’d been lying in this same spot, recently plucked from the water and feverish as well. Hiko shook his head. Would this baka deshi never learn his lessons?

He grabbed a cloth and soaked it in a barrel of water before folding it and placing it on Kenshin’s brow. Then, after draping a blanket across his shivering form, Hiko went back to the beach to collect driftwood. There was nothing else he could do for the boy now. It was up to him to decide if he wanted to live or not.

* * *

When Hiko returned, Kenshin hadn’t moved a muscle. A quick check confirmed he was still alive, though the fever had not diminished. In fact, it seemed to rage even stronger within him. He re-wet the cloth and replaced it on Kenshin’s brow. It was later that night when he heard it.

Tiny whimpering noises coming from under the heavy fur. What desperate thoughts must be churning in that boy’s head for them to haunt his fever dreams? Hiko had difficulty making out the half-formed muttered words, though several times he thought he heard Kenshin say “shishou.” So, did the boy know where he was on some subconscious level? But listening more closely, he realized it wasn’t his name on the boy’s lips, but someone else’s.

_ Shishio _ .

But as much as Kenshin continued to almost growl the name, there was another the boy seemed to almost desperately call out.

_ Kaoru-dono _ .

Someone he battled and someone he sought to protect, it appeared. But was this something in the past? Or the reason he was here in this state? Hiko shook his head. These were useless questions to ask when there was no hope for an answer now, anyway.

* * *

The next morning Kenshin’s fever still hadn’t broken. The cold cloth on his brow was doing little to bring it down. His muttering had continued throughout the night, urging Hiko to go out and look for some wild yarrow he could use to make a fever-breaking tea for the boy. But when he’d returned with the herb, he’d heard hoarse shouts coming from inside and rushed in to find Kenshin thrashing around violently.

His arms flung about, his feet kicked, and his back arched up off the floor. He was nearing the edge of the platform and one more outburst of motion would have him rolling off and into the fire.

Hiko burst into action, dropping the plant and lunging forward to catch his baka deshi and drag him away from the edge. Kenshin’s thrashing only increased as he found resistance, his fever-bright eyes wide and wild, but unseeing. Hiko didn’t have to work hard to win this fight. 

Placing his fingers at several key pressure points, the older man soon had the boy lying limply on the ground again. Covering Kenshin once again with the blanket he had thrown off, Hiko picked up the yarrow he had collected and soon had a tea ready. 

That night, as Hiko sat drinking sake out of a bowl he’d made, working on yet more bowls to get ready for the kiln, he couldn’t help but be pleased to note how much calmer his baka deshi was. Though he still twitched and muttered in his sleep, sweat had begun to drip from his pores, confirming that his fever was indeed breaking. But when he would wake up was anyone’s guess.

Kenshin’s body had been through much, and not just in the two days Hiko had been caring for him. If he had translated the fevered words and actions of the boy correctly, his life of late had not been peaceful. No, it would still take some time for his body to fully heal enough for him to awaken.

And so, as evening neared on the third day since he’d found his baka deshi on the beach, Hiko grinned slightly as he heard the rustle of movement and heavy footfalls from inside, turning from where he was stacking his wood to look at the burden who had once again found himself under the care of his shishou.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who've read my first RK fic ([Rescue](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28043379)), you'll notice I made a little mention to it in here ;) For those who haven't read it, if you'd like to, the link's right there in the title! :D


End file.
